I made the world, you make the characters. You can be anything werewhatever, shapeshifter, mage, witch, ect.. The plot is not set, so anyone can createadapt it. It all starts on the planet Freedom.... .:From the forum of the same name on :.

A village to the North, covered eternally in frost and snow. Raging blizzards that ravage the area can cause even the most careful of travelers to get off course. Deep within this frozen wasteland, creatures who thrive in these conditions have developed a civilization.

Near the town, which consists of various dens, tall pine trees stand. Their daunting stature cast deep shadows over the town giving it a ominous feel, especially when accompanied by the glowing demonic eyes of it inhabitants.

These creatures seem much like Earth’s wolves, except much more intimidating. They have full white coats, sharp teeth which they use to hunt weak prey, and slightly glowing eyes. Creatures who almost look human take residence here as well. They seem to be part wolf though vastly different from the typical werewolf. Instead, with wolf ears, claws, fangs and fur they look like vicious half man half wolf mixes.

Although their appearance is intimidating, like the rock creatures on the southern hemisphere, they are a peace loving race, who are kind and willing to help lost travelers. If any dare approach.

A half-human, half wolf creature had gone to investigate the sudden crash near his den. It had peeked outside hearing a fast moving object nearing your den, but it managed to peek out on the object's watery appearance.

Now that the creature had reached the rim of the crater, it shiver in shock- though it was less likely to do so with its thick winter fur and Animal pelt that wrapped your thin pelt parts. There upon mid section of the crater lay a nude being.

The creature the furred-sapient saw was completely nude/shaved of it's needed fur. The form seemed to be a 18 year old male, nape length golden hair strewn across the male's face. It did not shiver or tremble over the happening blizzard, it was just frozen stiff.

The observation only lasted for a couple of seconds before it slid down upon the mid-steep crater and took off its animal pelt, encasing the nude being in its incredible warmth. Taking the being to the furry-creature's den with inhuman strength and speed; by mere minutes it will be at the den entrance.

The head that protruded from the animal pelt, lobbed to the furry's arm. The blizzard wind had blown away the silky hair, revealing a just face of late teens; dirty-blonde eye-brows in contrast to the blonde hair- yet even unconscious this being held an aura of mystery and depression. Something you knew the creature knew couldn't help with the nude male.

At the entrance, the furren wagged off the accumulated snow; obviously covering a frost-thin amount of extruded snow at the nude being's head. The furren gently wiped off the snow and walked off deep into the cave, planning on starting the fire and help the being recuperate.

The furren walked to the den's living room, and dropped the male on the couch gently and started the furnace across the couch.

If you examine the room carefully right behind the couch were three tunnels, the only thing you needed to know was that the middle one led to the furren's sleep-room. Surrounding the remaining walls of the living room were countless sizes of tomes ranging from a hand's width thick to a couple of pages thick, an old ratty coffee table stood next to the mantle of the fire(not in front of the fire). The furren had been browsing the huge collection, trailing its clawed index until it stopped to pull out an average sized book.

Flipping casually until it found the section it needed to read: to heal a furless-being...(not very descriptive I know). It took only milliseconds until the furren placed the red tome on the coffee table and headed straight to the right tunnel, in mind of retrieving something.

After a couple of hours, the limp body of Joseph began moving, unconsciously trying to re-gather warmth, the furnace's fires would not reach him, the pelt had not been serving it's purpose. The origins of the freezing temperature had been from the left room, deeming the pelt useless.

Joseph's body kept wrapping the pelt more until he began opening his eyes. He was in a library of some sorts, obviously not loosing most of the needed vocabulary to recognize an object, he could only to groan in distaste as he refocused on the freezing temperature. Still half-asleep you take the pelt and naturally walk to the nearest heat source: the furnace.

Cross-legging Indian-style Joseph wrapped the pelt tighter around his body, before his keen ears picked up footsteps originating from behind his left. His senses rising to an unbearable noise waking him up fully, but it just before the footsteps stopped; with his sixth sense he knew the being was just centimeters away from him.

He recoiled in shock as a furry clawed hand placed a wet-lukewarm rag on his forehead. Turning to find a wolf face, with eyes bent in a somewhat concentrating notion. Joseph began looking at the furry wolf-man strangely as it continued dabbing the wet cloth on your forehead, but eventually the notion starts to soothe you until you let the being continue.

It abruptly lifts Joseph off his seat, and in lightning speed you are on the same couch you tried to escape from.

"What are you doing?" you yell at the daft creature, "The couch is cold! I meant to reach the furnace for this reason."

The furren had taken your words in account and gave a half-felt nod, before it walked behind the couch and kicked the couch; moving the couch and Joseph meters closer to the furnace. In fact close enough for Joseph to scream in natural fear as the tongs of fire were just inches from supposedly burning the couch.

Still screaming until the clawed hand covered his mouth, forcefully. Soon Joseph began hearing echoing words, that seemed to come from the white furren.

'Calm yourself human, I had calculated the couch's distance from the furnace before I had forced my strength upon it.' the female voice reassured. Turning his head to the furren, he did not see her mouth move, but it seemed that her eyes did the communicating.

"You're a telepathic?" you half-mindedly spoke.

In response the furren's face formed a confused expression, 'No, I am not.' thoughtfully she spoke, 'but it seems you are.'

Joseph, still having this block of memories, did not know what she was talking about. All he could pull out was that he was just a powerless and stupid being that had no memories of his past (stereotypical-I know), yet something kept on prodding him that what the furren said might be true.

The furren stopped dabbing in order to speak, 'Do not think upon it too hard, child.' it spoke calmly, 'You should rest.'

Joseph looked upon the furren closely; the curves of femality was very subtle under the thick winter fur coating her entire body, thinning on her torso, she held a calm and feline appearance countless of the animal she was.Her breasts were not covered from what you'd expect from a sapient should have done; speaking of clothes..

"Do you happen to have some spare clothes?" he asked half-knowingly.

'I'll see to it, immediately,' she spoke blankly. Yet something about that idea seemed stupid, since when did furrens need clothes?

Taking hold of the pelt, Joseph stood up in a sitting position. Holding the still wet rag on his forehead. Thoughts of his past were stumbling slowly accumulating in his mind, leaving a tangled mess of desperate-asking.

Telepathic? Since when did I acquire this?

How did I lose my clothes? Did I even have clothes?

Why did I land on this god-forsaken glacier?

(and much more importantly) How did I even lose all my memories?

A line of revival from the conscious-state pulled you out of your thought-process the moment the female furren came behind the couch, placing a snow-white blouse, cravat included, and whitening black slacks on your lap.

Taking the articles of clothing and began putting them on, you told her your name. And as expected she told him hers.

Joseph had been hypnotized by the red-green tongs from the furnace; it had been hours since Albinia left.

And yet he was able to remember the last conversation hours ago...

'Do not stare to intently into the fires, they will not serve your human eyes well." she warned clearly concerned.

Yet he would half-mindedly nod as a response; she took the response and left to the middle tunnel. Yet she managed to say these few blurry words: 'Sleep well, Joseph. I'll be checking on you."

Sleep well? Was that supposed to help him do so? The fires had been glazing his eyes, barely blinking with eyes still transfixed upon the meager bonfire; obviously not heeding Albinia's warning. His mindset was deeply set on various questions; varying from his past to other trivial desperations. Once in a while he would feel the nodding feeling of peace, and be able to close his eyes for a minute- for a minute....

Albinia had snuck into the living room around mid-morning in order to check on the fire; barely alive yet still extruding slivers of molten flame. Taking a poker and a measly lighter from the mantle, she began orchestrating the rebirth of the bonfire. Pausing a moment to hear the continual thrashing and agonizing moaning, perforating from the human's mouth.

Sighing in discontent, you had warned him to relax and recuperate; but obviously he had only to disobey and results to his present discomfort. She knew it was nothing she could do and as the fires started to quell in satisfying little licks of yellow, she turned around and headed to her tunnel. But as she was passing by as hand grabbed her wrist, Joseph was still asleep, so it was just a reflex; but it wouldn't come off.

In truth she wasn't able to remove his hand, she went past the use of shrugging it off to prying it off; yet it wouldn't let out. Normally once she had started prying, the exertion forced upon a rock would have cleaved it open; yet Joseph's hand had not even showed a sign of release.

She stop trying and look unto Joseph's face; tight and full of depression was what she could get from that sour expression. She had seen this form of discomfort somewhere in her cub-life, yet it would only happen to clingy-fledglings; they were the kinds that would rarely make it out into the real world. Joseph was no fledgling, nor was he a resident of Nalliemana; this was an absolute confusing situation.

In the midst of her confusion she had sat down next to Joseph and began stroking the arm that held her wrist, and slowly the hand began to grow limp. Noticing this you continue stroking, and began to also notice Joseph's face letting up, until she was free from his vice-grip. His grip left a slight ring indention on her wrist; possibly bruised.

She got up from the couch and walked behind the armchair across Joseph's feet; seemingly hiding. His face reverted to its bitter-expression, thrashing and moaning returned. Beginning to move back to her dorm room, she halted the moment he called her name.

Walking back and crouching behind the back of the couch, in order to glimpse his face. His eyes still sowed shut, but his mouth was now active; repeating your name, but instead of a desperate/agonized tone he held a pleading cry. Albinia's face distorted into a confused-concern form: If humans are this whiney, I should have just let the- Looking again at his face, his tone now matched his expression- no longer sour but something you'd naturally find pity for.

Albinia reverted into a maternal state of mind and began to tenderly wrap her arms around his underside (as humans call it: bridal-style), and saunter to the middle tunnel.